


How to Be Human: A (Really Awful, Terrible) Step-By-Step Guide

by Mnemosyne98



Category: The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008)
Genre: Aliens, It's the alien family sitcom that no-one asked for, Other, Telekinesis, The Giant Squid-Creature of Space knows all (apparently), aliens failing completely at blending in on this trash planet, aliens speaking terrible Mandarin Chinese, big glowing lights in the sky and weird electrical malfunctions, in which a poor beleaguered single-mother astrobiologist is given even MORE to deal with, kind of, post-apocalyptic?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-02-11 18:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemosyne98/pseuds/Mnemosyne98
Summary: Earth stands still: what happens when it starts again and aliens are still hanging around? Why is it always Helen who ends up in the middle of things like this? Is surviving the near-extinction of the human race really the key to bringing a family closer together? Can a strange extraterrestrial being with a very limited grasp of human emotions really be a suitable father figure for one's stepson?And why, damn it, why is so hard to explain what it means to be human?





	1. It's Possibly Not the End of the World As We Know It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fantasticbeastsandheretofindthem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasticbeastsandheretofindthem/gifts).



> Hello to whoever reads... whatever this is.  
> (@Fantasticbeastsandheretofindthem, you're partly to thank/blame for this).

(AKA: “How a Centuries-Old Extraterrestrial Being Got His Groove Back”)  
(AKA: “The Most Dysfunctional Family Unit This Side of the Galaxy”)

If, twenty-four hours ago, you’d felt inclined to ask Dr. Helen Benson:  
‘Hey, what’s the strangest experience you’ve had in your professional career?’  
It’s likely that she would have answered either:

(a) Escaped spiders in Bio-Lab 6.  
(b) The Infamous bacteria-samples-at-the-office-party Scare of ’05 (and the subsequent New Year’s Day spent in quarantine).  
Or,  
(c) That One Time in Salt Lake City.

(Admittedly, it would have been hard to pick a favourite, between the three).

Now, however, she felt confident in saying that recent developments blew even the most bizarre of her previous experiences out of the water completely. ‘The Event’, as it was now commonly called, wasn’t the kind of thing that happened every day: it wasn’t every day, after all, that the entire human species was threatened with total annihilation, much less at the hands of a rapidly-expanding, all-consuming swarm of killer alien bees.

(Well, she thought, not ‘at the hands of’…billions of tiny wings, really. But she was pretty sure there was no expression for that.)  
Looking back, it was all a blur of panic alarms and lights in the sky and existential dread. In the space of a few short hours she’d been practically kidnapped, had her skin invaded by those goddamned nano-creatures, and, most importantly, witnessed the arrival of an alien being.

Said alien being was now lying asleep on her couch, and that, she concluded, was the strangest thing that had happened to her so far.  
The sinister, unearthly sphere of light had risen and departed, leaving him crumpled on the ground in its wake, looking dazed and bedraggled but very much alive. She’d hesitated, unable to will her legs to move, and unsure if it was even safe to do so. Was it over? The remnants of the swarm had littered the ground, crunching beneath her feet like the world’s most nightmarish snowfall. They had glittered in the sunlight; the effect would almost have been beautiful if only those things had been, in their working condition, a little less… flesh-dissolving.

As for Klaatu, he hadn’t exactly looked well, but then that could hardly have been expected: his suit was frayed at the edges, his face marked with tiny scratches, and he looked as though he could have slept for a year. Nevertheless, she couldn’t hold back the barrage of questions.

“What was that? Is it safe now? Is this all over? What do we do now? What will you do? What were those things?”

Well, that had been what she’d meant to say. In the heat of the moment, all of these quite separate and distinct questions had blurred around the edges, and merged into single combined one, which had sounded something like:

“What - that was…do you…it’s over – safe - is it…are you…we… what now?”

(It had made perfect sense in her head.)

He had simply answered, 

“Yes”

(Which, as she would later point out to him, was not really a sufficient answer at all.)

“We’re safe now?” she’d managed to ask, “It’s over?”

“The Process has been terminated” he’d replied. Sensing what he’d guessed was a look of uncertainty (though he wasn’t sure), he added, “Yes. You will live.”

The relief that had washed over her at hearing this answer was so great that all at once she’d wanted to laugh and cry and throw her arms around him, but she’d held it together regardless, assuming that such a reaction would only have frightened the alien visitor as much as knowing his true form would apparently have frightened her. After all, the last thing she wanted was to upset the being who’d only just decided that maybe humanity wasn’t worth killing.

He’d also looked as though he might pass out at any moment.

There had, of course, been the rather less immediate but far more inconvenient problem of the entire world’s power supply. Or, rather, the sudden and total lack of it. At first, Helen had been so consumed by the thought of ‘Wow, I’m so glad I’m not being de-materialised on a molecular level right now’, that she didn’t notice this right away. It didn’t take long for reality to sink in, though. All of Manhattan going dark wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you could ignore for very long. At this realisation, the second, less intense wave of panic had hit her – more of an aftershock than a wave. 

“The effect should only be temporary” Klaatu had explained, which had eased her mind a little, although she really hadn’t liked the sound of that ‘should’. He’d gone on further (despite his voice sounding as though he’d been eating gravel – or tiny, shredding, nano-machines), and revealed that this temporary shut-down of the world was intended, above all, to be a show of power.

“We needed to show you what we are capable of,” he’d said, “We’re showing you what’s at stake. If you waste this second chance we have chosen to give you, we’re more than capable of making this permanent.”

She’d take that, she decided. Of course, she’d had many objections to this idea, but her gladness to be alive had outweighed her compulsion to ask further questions. Really, she’d supposed, any possible outcome was better than getting torn to shreds, so she supposed she shouldn’t complain too much.

She had protested, if only slightly, when he’d telekinetically hot-wired a nearby car, but how else were two tired humans (and one non-human, equally tired) supposed to get anywhere? 

“Where are we going?” she’d asked, “They’ll still be on the lookout for you, you know. I don’t think you can just stroll up to the authorities and start ordering them around; given the circumstances I’m not sure they’ll take it well.”

After he’d strolled up to the authorities and started ordering them around, and explained to them what he had told her, her current predicament had begun. He would be permitted to stay on earth, according to the (incredibly frazzled) Secretary of Defence, on the condition that he made at least some attempt to “blend in”. The last thing they needed, after all, was another mass panic. The official story, as it stood, was that, yes, aliens had landed on earth (there wasn’t much they could do to convince the public otherwise, after all), but they were definitely gone now. Stick to that, she’d told him, and he’d be left alone.

There was, of course, the question of where he would go now, and this was when Helen, for better or for worse, had decided to chime in. Her reasoning, at the time, had been swayed by three factors:  
(a) As an astrobiologist, I really can’t miss out on an opportunity to study a literal alien.  
(b) As the first person to make contact with said alien, it only figures that I should be the one to help him out.  
And finally:  
(c) I’m a good person, damn it, and who’s going to help this strange, clueless creature if not me?

Which had brought her to where she was now: sitting in the dark, contemplating her future, with an alien asleep on her couch, lying so still that were it not for the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest he could have easily been mistaken for dead.

Helen sighed. This was going to be the start of an odd period in her life, wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And so it begins!  
>  Next time on How to Be Human: 'No, Klaatu, you can't just steal things'.


	2. Family Bonding and Extraterrestrial Petty Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest: exactly what the title implies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm actually really surprised that this many people read the first chapter of this... thing I'm inexplicably writing. Thanks to you all! Needless to say, that first chapter was only a taste of things to come - anticipate more weirdness, coming soon...

How was it, Helen mused, that an alien from a species whose knowledge far outweighed that of mankind, and who had now survived both a bullet to the chest and the wrath of his species’ own technology, was apparently unable to handle one night of sleeping on a couch in an awkward position? Despite her exhaustion, she’d only caught a few hours of sleep in the cold, dark house before the sun rose and she figured she may as well rise with it.

Klaatu, it seemed, had had the same idea. When Helen entered the living room, she found him already awake, sitting in one of the armchairs, and turning his head slowly backwards and forwards, from left to right, his face frozen still as he did so.

“Good morning” she said, bemused.

“Good morning” he echoed back at her, continuing his strange exercise without pausing.

“Are you…?” she asked, “What are you doing?”

At this, he DID pause, and looked her dead in the eyes, unblinking. It was unnerving, to say the least; that, she thought, was something he was going to have to work on if he was going to stand any chance of ‘blending in’. 

“Your furniture has injured my neck” he stated, “At least, I believe this to be the cause.”

To say Helen had been through a lot in the past few days would have been the understatement of the century, and, at this moment, all the tension that had been building for the duration of her apocalyptic near-death experience chose to come to the surface in the form of laughter. 

“You slept on a couch in a cold room,” she explained, trying her best to compose herself, “Your neck’s a little stiff, that’s all. I did tell you we had a guest room, but you practically passed out in here as soon as we got in the door.”

She had to redouble her efforts to hold back her laughter when he began tilting his head again.

“I was very fatigued” he said.  
“Clearly. Just try to sleep in a real bed tonight and you’ll be fine” she paused. “Did you even sleep before?” she asked, “Before you were human, I mean. Did you even need to?”

“Not as such,” he replied, “It seems an inefficient use of time. The hallucinations will also take some getting used to.”

Damn it. She’d only just straightened her face.

“Dreams” she said, her smile creeping back, “They’re called dreams, Klaatu. Everyone gets them, it’s normal.”

It was difficult to tell, but he looked as though he might have been confused. Or perhaps Helen was just imagining his eyebrows knitting together, trying to project some kind of recognisable human emotion onto a being who, despite outward appearances, was most certainly NOT human. She would have to bear this in mind, she realised. In a way, she thought, perhaps he would have been easier to deal with had he been able to keep his original form: then, at least, there would have been a constant visual reminder of their differences. Someone who looked human but, deep down, wasn’t – THAT complicated things.

Absentmindedly, she wandered into the darkened kitchen. There was nothing to do, really, but wait for the power to come back on – it was incredible, she observed, how quickly something like this could go from being an end-of-the-world scenario to a simple inconvenience. 

Oh, where did I leave the keys? Damn, we’re all out of milk. When’s the world’s power going to switch back on after the aliens turned it off?

She was interrupted from her musings by her stepson emerging from his room. Jacob had been uncharacteristically quiet since the end of ‘The Event’, but she supposed it was a lot for an eight-year-old to take in. Hell, it was a lot for anyone to take in. How many years of therapy, she wondered, would it take to get over this? There was no chapter on this in the parenting books.

“YOU AND YOUR CHILD SURVIVED THE APOCALYPSE: NOW WHAT?”

It didn’t help that their domestic situation had hardly been normal before ‘The Event’. Complex biological theories? Those came naturally to Helen. Being a surrogate mother to a boy who’d lost not only one but both of his biological parents? There was no science to that. 

This was one way in which the chaos of the last few days could have been considered a positive. Sort of; if you looked at it sideways. Say what you wanted about Armageddon, but being faced with something as major as the end of human civilisation really did have the side-effect of making one’s own problems seem very small in comparison, and the knowledge that mankind was not alone in the universe certainly put one’s own world into perspective. Nothing REALLY mattered all that much.

As for Jacob, perhaps the reality of what they’d survived would hit him later on, but for now he just seemed pleased about his extended break from school. Ah yes, all the usual holidays: Christmas, Spring break, the Apocalypse. Hopefully, she thought, there still was a school for him to return to – she’d be damned if a swarm of matter-consuming alien bees stopped her son from getting an education.

“Is he still here?” Jacob asked, testing a nearby light switch – still, nothing.

“He’s in the lounge,” she said, “I told him he can have the guest room; sleeping on the couch didn’t seem to agree with him.”

The boy smiled.

“He travelled across the universe, but he can’t handle sleeping on a couch?” he said, “This IS the same guy who was gonna end the world, right?”

Oh, thank god, she thought; he could see the humour in their situation too – that should help, in the long-term.

“I was thinking the same thing” she said, “He’s got a lot to learn.”

“So, he’s staying?” he asked, and Helen was relieved that his tone sounded more hopeful than concerned at the prospect.

“Yeah,” she answered, although, in truth, she wasn’t certain how long his stay on earth would be. Was he planning to stay here permanently, or just for a short while? She supposed she should be prepared for both outcomes. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new houseguest. I know it’ll take some getting used to” – she unwittingly echoed their visitor’s earlier words.

“That’s cool” he said, after a moment of thinking it through, “I can teach him stuff. I was scared of him before, but we’re cool now.”

Kids, thought Helen: in just a few hours he’d gone from ‘we should kill the aliens, just to be sure’, to ‘there’s an alien staying with us? Cool!’ Nevertheless, she was grateful that he wasn’t going to make an already strange situation any more difficult. They would take this one step at a time.

“Look!” he exclaimed, pointing to something across the room. Helen’s heart jumped: one of the ceiling lights was beginning to flicker to life. First it was just the one, then two, then three, until finally all the room’s lights were gradually illuminating, pulsing on and off like some luminous heartbeat. 

She rushed through into the lounge, where the lights were doing the same, and where Klaatu still sat rubbing his neck and looking unamused. The television screen, once blank and silent, was now a mess of static and white noise. The alien, she reasoned, would be able to explain this.

“Is it coming back?” she asked him, “The power, is it coming back on?”

“It would seem so,” he replied, “It should be sporadic for some time, and blackouts are not out of the question, but in time it should be back to normal.”

Well, thought Helen, at least the power would be back to normal, even if the rest of her life would not. Again, this was one less thing to worry about. 

Well: portions of the city and surrounding area HAD been reduced to dust, and the collective mood of the general public likely still veered towards ‘We’re All Gonna Die’, but still. Baby steps. You couldn’t expect things to go from Apocalypse to normal overnight. Rome wasn’t built in a day, or… dematerialised in a couple of hours.

“I suppose we should try to get outside,” she said, “Have a look around, see what’s left and what’s…” she trailed off. “We’ll need food, but where’s going to be open? And YOU need something else to wear,” she added, “You’re going to turn a few heads if you go out looking like that.”

She had a point: Klaatu certainly looked worse for wear and, well, like someone who’d nearly been dissolved by space bugs. He could hardly go around in a partially-eaten suit without causing suspicion, and it wasn’t as though Helen had a spare set of clothes lying around just in case an alien came to visit. Call her short-sighted, but this wasn’t exactly a scenario she’d ever imagined.

“We can find what we need” was his only response. HOW exactly he intended to do this, Helen wasn’t sure, but he really did seem intent upon doing it now – he rose from the chair and headed straight for the front door.

“Wait a moment!” Helen called, “Let me get my shoes – stay here” He, it seemed, had slept wearing his. How many things like this, she wondered, was she going to have to teach him? His kind had studied the human race from afar for god knows how long, yet didn’t seem to have picked up on concepts like ‘humans don’t generally sleep in all their clothes’, or ‘humans sometimes experience discomfort from sleeping in the wrong position’. She could already tell that there would probably be a lot more where that came from.

“Jacob, go keep an eye on him,” she said, searching for a jacket, “make sure he doesn’t just go wandering off” – although, in all honesty, if he DID decide to go wandering off she wasn’t sure if her son, or anyone for that matter, would be able to do much about that. He HAD managed to ‘wander off’ out of a heavily-guarded, military-controlled facility before, so it stood to reason that there wasn’t a whole lot that could stand in his way.

Sure enough, by the time Helen was out the door, he was already half-way down the empty street, with Jacob trailing along behind him. She half-sprinted to catch up to them, and was overwhelmed by the sheer lack of people. That kind of thing just didn’t happen in the city, even during the early and late hours, and it felt inherently wrong. Then again, she supposed they’d chosen the right time to leave the house; in a couple of hours, when everyone else started to have the same idea, these streets were going to be anything but empty.

This was fine, she thought. This was just another shopping trip, and there was nothing unusual about that. Well… technically speaking, the shop they found WAS both closed and abandoned, a fact which she announced as soon as they approached it, and which Klaatu chose to ignore completely. With a single touch, the automatic doors opened for him, and Helen wondered if it was considered breaking and entering when nothing was physically broken in the attempt. What were the laws where alien telekinesis was concerned?

Nevertheless, they did need food. Klaatu HAD already stolen a car, so she wasn’t sure what she was expecting here, but she still made a few half-hearted attempts to explain to him that, no, it wasn’t considered socially acceptable to just take things. The concept of ownership, it seemed, was quite foreign to whatever society he originated from (she made a mental note to ask him about this later on).

“I mean…” she said, as he carefully scrutinised a loaf of bread before placing it into an already half-full bag, “It’s a crime, really. We do normally pay for things.”  
“It’s the post-apocalypse, mom,” said Jacob, taking a bite out of an apple, “It’s not normal rules anymore. It’s every man for himself – and every alien” he added.

Now, Helen had three simultaneous thoughts:

(a) God, I hope he’s not right, because the world plunging into a state of anarchy and chaos is NOT something I need right now.  
(b) Guess I’m his mom now, then. Who knew? The apocalypse really does bring people closer together.  
(c) Klaatu’s going to get us into a whole lot of trouble unless someone explains the concept of ‘law’ to him…But I have a suspicion he might already understand it, and just doesn’t care. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“We could get caught,” she protested, “They have security cameras in here, and now the power’s coming back they might’ve recorded all of this” 

“Might they?” Klaatu asked, although it was really more of a hypothetical question. Nothing electrical could be trusted to work properly around him. Whilst Helen didn’t want to condone this behaviour, she had to admit that the idea of a being with potentially astronomical powers using said powers to accomplish petty theft was… kind of funny, at least. 

Well, they had food now. She’d allow it just this once, just whilst the world was still getting back to normal. Once everything was up and running, no more crime. She was NOT about to trade in her prestigious reputation in the field of science for a life as a hardened street criminal.

Klaatu probably wouldn’t have cared either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on "How to Be Human" - "A meeting with an old friend (who's really feeling rather smug right about now)"


	3. Pretty Fly For a Squid Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alien biology, science nerd Helen, and an old friend returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, this chapter's a longer one - hope you enjoy this strange thing!

Just as Klaatu eventually learnt that (respectable) humans didn’t generally sleep on couches, Helen learnt that asking her new house-guest questions of any kind was, almost all of the time, an exercise in futility. Questions such as:  
(a) ‘Where did you disappear to last night?’  
(b) ‘What was that strange glowing light in the back yard?’, or  
(c) ‘Where did you get that suit from?’

Were answered only with non-committal statements. For example:  
(a) He’d had ‘business to attend to’  
(b) It had been ‘a message’ (Helen couldn’t help but wonder if this advanced race of beings had yet to work out that there were less suspicious means of communication than via the use of strange glowing orbs)  
(c) He had ‘acquired it’.

Regarding his last response, though she was 99% sure this implied more theft, she hoped he’d merely taken it off a rack in an abandoned store and not off the back of some unfortunate passing businessman. At this point, she wouldn’t have put it past him to do either.

Still, she thought, at least he looked somewhat normal now; it had only been a few days since ‘The Event’ and all evidence of his near-death experience had almost disappeared completely. She remembered how he’d managed to heal the wound from his surgery with just a smear of that strange alien tissue, so a few minor cuts and scrapes were probably nothing to him.

Hell, she’d seen him bring a dead man back to life. His people – whoever they may be – possessed the technology to do that, to restore life, something mankind had been trying to achieve since the beginning. The ramifications were mind-blowing; she was in the presence of a lifeform with perhaps more knowledge of the universe than the human mind could comprehend.

Said lifeform was sitting at her kitchen table, attempting to eat a dry bowl of cornflakes and an unpeeled banana, and – unsurprisingly – not seeming to enjoy either of them all that much.

“You should probably peel that” she told him. He stared at her, blankly.

Teaching this man anything new really was like trying to explain particle physics to a Labrador, wasn’t it? ‘You need to peel bananas before you eat them’ – even monkeys had that one figured out. Then again, she thought, did his people even need to eat? 

“The skin’s not edible,” she explained, taking it from his hand, demonstrating the apparently complex procedure for peeling a piece of fruit, and handing it back to him. “And I’ll get you some milk for that,” she glanced down at the dry bowl of cereal, “we don’t tend to eat it plain.”

The light inside the refrigerator flickered on and off a few times before finally deciding to work. Although the power supply was beginning to return to normal, it was still a gradual process; little things still didn’t work quite the way they used to. Strange static sounds and garbled voices burst periodically from the radio. The television changed channels of its own accord. The lamp on Helen’s bedside table, for whatever reason, still refused to turn on.

However, she wasn’t sure how much of this was due to the after-effects of ‘The Event’, and how much was due to the presence of an energy-manipulating being in their household. The risk of malfunctioning electrical equipment, she thought, was the price she was paying for her hospitality.

She returned to the table with a carton of milk, and decided to make an attempt at polite conversation. Though she had tried her best to reign back her burning curiosity – as her guest, for the most part, had seemed reluctant to talk – she was, increasingly, finding this to be an impossible endeavour. She’d dedicated a good percentage of her life to studying the mere THEORY of extraterrestrial life, and yet now, faced with an ambassador from another world, it occurred to her that she had absolutely no idea what to say.

So, she started small, and asked the most recent question to come to mind.

“I suppose you didn’t need food before,” she said, handing him the milk, which he poured into the bowl with the concentrated precision of a scientist mixing together two highly volatile chemicals. 

“No.” was the answer.

“What did you do instead?” she asked.

“We absorb energy from our surroundings,” he replied, between mouthfuls of cereal, “We must be versatile in order to survive; not all environments are as hospitable as your earth.”

Aha. NOW they were getting somewhere.

“Where was home for you?” she asked – Astrobiologist Helen was definitely taking over now.

“Anywhere,” he said, “We exist wherever we need to, such is our nature. We can adapt; for most of us, the concept of ‘home’ is foreign. Much of my own life has been spent in the vacuum of space. Until now, I’ve never had the opportunity to remain in one place for any length of time.”

“You could survive in a vacuum?” she asked, enthralled. THAT was interesting territory: you had your single-celled organisms and tardigrades that could withstand relatively long-term exposure to a vacuum, but anything more complex than that was unprecedented. “What was that like?”

“Not comfortable,” he said, “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

She’d wanted to make this a strictly professional conversation, but Helen couldn’t stop herself from smiling at this response. Was that an attempt at humour? Did he even realise he was doing it?

“I’ll keep that in mind” she said. This had been a first: it was rare for him to speak in complete sentences, let alone reveal anything about his origin. Though she was sure it would take a while, Helen vowed to make learning more her new project. If she had to piece together what few fragments of information he was willing to give up, so be it.

Jacob was late to wake up, making the most of his break from school. Helen couldn’t blame him; you couldn’t really get that excited about arithmetic and book reports when you’d only just survived the apocalypse. She herself had to admit that work was the last thing on her mind at the moment. Once she WAS able to return, however, she’d have some very interesting theories to propose to her peers. Well, she’d have to keep quiet about the whole ‘I have an alien staying with me’ part, of course, but it couldn’t hurt to have some inside information.

“Hi mom,” he said, entering the kitchen, “Klaatu” he added. “What’re you doing?” 

“Just talking,” said Helen, “Science stuff. Real interesting; you two should talk about it. Just ‘cause you’re not in school, doesn’t mean you can’t learn something.”

She’d been expecting him to protest the idea, but to her surprise he seemed just as full of questions as she was (much to Klaatu’s bemusement). Did his kind have children, she wondered, or were they born fully-formed? Were they, in fact, ‘born’ at all? Did they have families, or were they solitary creatures? Klaatu’s unawareness of human relationships seemed to suggest the latter, though they could just be a particularly reserved society. 

“What were you like?” asked Jacob, wide-eyed and inquisitive, “You’re not REALLY human, I mean – you haven’t always been one, have you?”

“My body is human,” he replied, “It was necessary for me to assume this form in order to survive here on earth.”

“Yeah,” said Jacob, “But what WERE you? Was it something real weird? I bet it was, wasn’t it? Did you have teeth and claws and that stuff? Slime? I bet there was slime, wasn’t there? How many legs did you have?”

“Our forms vary depending on our surroundings,” he replied, “In our most neutral state, we are amorphous, constantly shifting. We possess no limbs, as such; when in between worlds, tendrils of our main body branch out into space in search of energy to sustain us.”

“How many?” the boy asked, overtaken with the same kind of grim curiosity Helen had often seen in her own students when discussing some of the grislier parts of biology. It was human nature, she supposed.

“As many as we need” Klaatu answered, “We have no teeth or claws, but many eyes. We spend so long living in total darkness that the detection of light sources becomes crucial. In the event that we find a habitable planet, our consciousness can be transferred into a suitable host, such as the one you’re talking to right now.”

Helen didn’t know what she’d expected his answer to be, but was still surprised. And yet, it made total sense: any organism surviving in such harsh conditions would have to be sufficiently simple – the fewer organ systems one possessed, the less opportunity there was for them to fail. Cockroaches could endure levels of radiation that would be fatal to a human for precisely this reason. But still, even knowing what she knew, it was hard to imagine the man sat at her kitchen table as some kind of many-eyed, nebulous…thing, floating around in space. 

“Cool!” said Jacob, “So, you’re like an octopus, kinda? Or, you were?”

“Something like that” said Klaatu, “If it helps you to visualise it.”

“Whoa…” this was certainly something Jacob wouldn’t have learnt in school. “Doesn’t look bad for a squid-thing, does he, mom?” he joked. 

Helen smiled. He made a good point.

“Genetically speaking,” Klaatu continued, “You are sitting at this table with a man who has been dead for over forty years.”

“Whoa!” Jacob repeated, and Helen felt the need to enter their conversation.

“What I’d assumed,” she said, “Is that your people visited earth before and took a sample of human DNA, and that your current form is based around that DNA’s original owner. I…” she paused, “I didn’t know it was that long ago.”

It wasn’t the first time in the last week or so that Helen wasn’t sure whether she should feel unnerved or fascinated. The scientist in her pushed her more towards fascination, but the idea of talking to what was essentially the clone of a long-dead man was an inherently sinister one. 

“Yes,” he replied, “Assuming this form while its original owner was still alive may have presented difficulties.”

To be fair, Helen thought, there had been FAR more ‘difficulties’ caused by his arrival than that, but she could see his point.

“How long have you been watching us?” she asked – and if there was one question she definitely wasn’t expecting a clear response to, it was this one.

The answer she received, more than anything else she had learnt up to this point, put everything into perspective.

“We were here before you.”

Nothing else needed to be said; that statement alone was enough to send her mind reeling. Of course, if they were truly that much more advanced than humans, it made sense that they’d been around for longer, but the concept was still a fairly existential one to grasp. How old, she wondered, was Klaatu? He looked no older than forty, but she knew that meant nothing; he also didn’t look like a shape-shifting organic mass with multiple eyes. If they could be transferred between different bodies, what implications did that have regarding their lifespan? Were they immortal? 

Given this, it was even more surprising to her that he hadn’t known how to peel a banana.

“I have business to attend to today” Klaatu stated, changing the topic. There was that ominous-sounding phrase again – he was now comfortably back in his secretive mood.

“What kind of business?” Helen asked.

“A meeting,” he replied, “With an acquaintance of mine. You are welcome to accompany me, though you may not understand all that is said, and I doubt it will be of much interest to you –“

“We’ll come” said Helen. 

She was a woman of science; aliens were her business. And if aliens were conducting business on earth, she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to get involved.

**********

It was an unseasonably warm afternoon as the three of them made their way to the meeting place: Klaatu appeared to know exactly where he was going, whereas Helen had no clue and simply followed behind him, with Jacob alongside her. Klaatu, she observed, didn’t even walk like a normal person: he seemed incapable of casually strolling along, and instead walked mechanically and purposefully, and just a little too fast.

Then, just as abruptly as he had set off, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Here” he stated.

‘Here’ turned out to be a run-down old café, not too far from home. It was called ‘The Bean’, because ALL cafés like this one seemed to be called ‘The Bean’, and this name was displayed across its window by a neon sign which had most likely been flickering on and off long before Klaatu’s arrival. Still, though she might have imagined it, Helen could have sworn she saw the sign surge in brightness as the alien passed by.

As meeting places went, thought Helen, this was somehow a downgrade from McDonalds. She hadn’t known that was possible, but there they were. 

However, though their surroundings were different, the elderly man who sat at a table in the corner of the room was familiar. It was the same man, Helen realised, with whom Klaatu had spoken before- she hadn’t caught his name, nor gotten the chance to know him, but she was nonetheless glad that he’d escaped harm during the Event. For an alien – at least, she was pretty sure he was an alien; why else would he have known Klaatu? – he seemed remarkably human.

This led her to two possible conclusions:  
(a) Aliens living on Earth for long enough could learn to imitate humans very convincingly.  
(b) Klaatu’s emotional naïveté wasn’t necessarily due to his extraterrestrial origin; that was just him.

“He’s early,” said Klaatu, “This shouldn’t take long.”

Helen took a seat by the window, so as not to impose too much on their conversation – then again, it wasn’t as though she understood Mandarin to begin with. She hoped they wouldn’t have to be here for too long; the café was mostly empty for a reason. Her coffee, when it eventually arrived, was grim and watery, and by the time the broken jukebox had begun its third play of ‘What’s New Pussycat?’, she started to regret her decision to come here.

Klaatu, she reasoned, COULD have done something about the jukebox if he’d wanted to, but didn’t. She wasn’t surprised.

It was probably malfunctioning because of him in the first place.

**********

“You survived” said Klaatu, in his clipped, one-tone Mandarin.

“No thanks to you,” Mr. Wu replied, with a smile. 

Klaatu wished he wouldn’t do that; it didn’t seem right for one of their kind. He had long known that his associate was too human for his own good, and he found it almost distasteful. Would he himself grow more and more like them as time passed? 

Granted, Wu always HAD been somewhat of an outlier, having shown interest in studying humans long before his departure to Earth - though, Klaatu recalled, when the time came for his associate to actually be sent there, he’d been none too pleased with the situation. Klaatu hadn’t envied him then, but had nonetheless felt secure in the knowledge that HE would surely never have to visit Earth himself.

Klaatu’s heritage granted him many abilities. Foresight was not one of them.

“An agreement was made,” he protested, “If I remember correctly, the decision to continue with the process was unanimous. Responsibility, where decision-making is concerned, lies not only with myself but also with you.”

Wu continued to smile.

“Your accent is terrible,” he said, sipping his tea, “You really must find time to practice more. I suppose you’ll have plenty of that now.”

“I feel it necessary to mention,” said Klaatu, making a point to enunciate each word, “That I did not originally come here with the intention to stay.”

“I know,” said Wu, “For what it’s worth, neither did I.”

“Your purpose was different. You were sent here to observe, I to destroy.”

“And yet,” Wu set his cup down on the table, “Here we are. And this, I must admit, IS thanks to you. So, if I may speak honestly: Thank you, Klaatu. I trust you have made the right choice.”

Although he should have felt vindicated, Klaatu instead felt uncomfortable. Wu was, technically, admitting that he had been right. However, admitting WHY he had changed his mind would be to admit that Wu had been right all along concerning the humans’ nature – which, by extension, would mean confessing that he had been wrong.

So, Klaatu said nothing.

“If I may ask,” Wu continued, “Who was the one to change your mind?”

“Irrelevant, surely,” Klaatu replied, keen to move on from the topic, “The end result is the same.”

“I would still like to know” said Wu, clearly intent on pushing the issue, “You never have been prone to flights of emotion. You’re unreasonably stubborn. I find it hard to imagine you, of all people, giving in to such a thing as compassion.”

Klaatu wanted to argue against this, but couldn’t deny any of it.

“I simply believed they deserved a second chance,” he said, “Is that difficult for you to believe?”

“Yes,” answered Wu, bluntly, “It’s not in your nature to show empathy, which means someone must have taught you.”

He shifted in his seat and leant sideways, just enough to see past Klaatu and peer at Helen and Jacob, seated at their table across the room. The boy didn’t seem to notice that they were being observed, but Helen caught the old man’s gaze and, in return, gave a small smile, which was returned.

“Ah” he said, to an unresponsive Klaatu, “I see. That makes sense.”

For a moment, Klaatu was perplexed, unsure of what Wu was implying. Nevertheless, he began to feel… irritation? Was that what humans called it?

“I don’t know what you mean” he said, and the expression on Wu’s face grew warmer still.

“Was it her?” he asked, in a hushed voice (pointless, thought Klaatu, as even if they were overheard they were unlikely to be understood), “Who changed your mind? This one? It was, wasn’t it? Why else would she have followed you here? I do understand, Klaatu.”

“No,” Klaatu said, “You do not. Helen was the first to make contact with me upon my arrival and, as she appears to be one of the few humans to know of my true origin and yet not fear me, she has so far proved useful to me.”

“Useful,” pondered Wu, “I see” he repeated.

“Yes,” Klaatu replied, “She has offered me shelter and food, and is, I believe, concerned for my wellbeing.”

This much could not be denied: in a chaotic and violent world, Helen had proven to be surprisingly benevolent. 

“Hmm…” Wu took another sip of his tea, “So, what you’re saying is that not all humans have treated you badly. Almost as though they have another side to them, one might suggest.”

Klaatu was coming to the realisation that the probability of his winning this argument was rapidly decreasing. He’d suspected Wu would behave this way; he always HAD been particularly self-righteous. Just because HE had developed an affection for humans, it didn’t mean Klaatu would do the same, nor would he let it impede his judgement in any way.

And, frankly, he resented the implication.

“I resent the implication,” he said, “That I would be so easily swayed. You said it yourself: it’s not in my nature.”

“Maybe not” said Wu, setting down his now-empty cup, “But, for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you. She seems lovely.”

Perhaps, thought Klaatu, his case would have seemed more convincing had he left his new human companions at home.

“I couldn’t possibly comment” he replied.

“Of course” Wu was enjoying this entirely too much. “I’m happy for you, Klaatu,” he said, “Really, I am. You have so much to experience, so many things to learn. I remember when I was in your place –“

“We are not the same” Klaatu interrupted, “Need I remind you –“ 

“You know,” Wu continued, ignoring him, “When I first came to this planet, I hated it here –“ 

“Understandably so, however –“

"Just as you did – “

“And still do”

“But now, I wouldn’t leave, even if given the chance,” explained Wu, brushing aside Klaatu’s interjections, “I have a wife here now; I have a family. And I love them, Klaatu. I know that may be hard for you to understand – at first, I didn’t understand it myself – but they have made the trials of human life worthwhile” his eyes drifted, lost in contemplation, “I can only hope that you, too, find solace here.”

There was a decidedly uncomfortable silence between the two, after that. Klaatu knew that human emotions were one field in which Wu had infinitely more experience than him, and wasn’t sure whether he should be glad of this or not. On the one hand, he wished to observe humans as an outsider, free from such distractions. On the other, understanding their psychology could potentially aid in this observation, just so long as he didn’t allow himself to become too absorbed in it. Wu was a clear example of what could happen if one allowed that.

“I will maintain contact with you” said Klaatu – reluctant as he was to admit it, Wu WAS the only other member of his race existing on this foreign, hostile planet, so it stood to reason that communication between the two of them was probably a good idea.

“And I with you,” said Wu, “I will be interested to hear of your discoveries. Believe me, there will be many.”

Klaatu stood up, resting a hand on the table to steady himself. These human legs would still take some getting used to. Surely, he thought, there must be more efficient ways of moving around.

“Be seeing you, Klaatu” said Wu, with a nod.

“Be seeing you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Wu doesn't want to SAY 'I told you so', but he TOTALLY wants to say that.)  
> Next Time on 'How to Be Human' - 'Look, Klaatu, you'll just have to get used to having hands.'


	4. On Hands and Human Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and other things that are difficult to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, of all the chapters so far, this one is probably the MOST relevant to the title. Klaatu might just be trying to understand humans a little better...maybe.

Humans were a species with many flaws, but as Klaatu lay staring at the ceiling, he concluded that beds were probably one of their better ideas. Although he was still displeased with his body’s insistence on losing consciousness for several hours at a time, at least humans had the good decency to have invented a comfortable place for him to wait out this inconvenience and rest his limbs.

Those strange, foreign-feeling limbs. 

Physically speaking, being human wasn’t something one became accustomed to easily. He’d mastered the basics (and had, in his opinion, done a rather good job of it): walking came fairly naturally to him now, though it wasn’t quite instinctual yet. His fine motor skills had also developed quite well; he still had to focus hard in order to perform certain actions, but he supposed that would become easier with practice. 

It would be an awful lot easier, he thought, if the human body weren’t so awfully ungainly. All these nerves and muscles and tendons; bones and flesh and organs, all interlinked. It was, in many ways, a very poorly thought-out system; if one part failed, the rest would follow. Humans were so remarkably fragile that had he not known they were the dominant species on Earth, he would never have believed it to be true.

He himself had experienced this fragility first-hand: the first sensation this body had experienced had been pain, as a bullet had pierced his chest. Discomfort has soon followed as, too early, he’d been pulled from his protective chrysalis, then panic as he’d awoken to find himself in a confined space. It wasn’t as though he was easily fazed, but he’d had no way of knowing the humans’ intentions, and based solely on first impressions could only assume that his life was in danger.

However, Helen had been there – while others had been afraid, she had been the only one to notice his own fear. She’d talked to him, told him he was safe (which hadn’t been entirely true, but it was what he’d needed to hear at the time), and he’d calmed down after that. Although the concept of compassion did not come naturally to him, it undoubtedly did for her; she had helped him in his escape, aided him in his mission, and had seen some kind of good in him even as the world crumbled around them. Even in the beginning, before she was able to see his human face, she had been the first one to reach out to him.

What was it, he wondered, that had compelled her to act this way? 

It had been partly out of interest, he concluded; considering her choice of career, why wouldn’t she want to know more about him? Even so, she needn’t have stayed with him this long, so either he had severely underestimated her dedication to her research, or she was acting out of compassion – a concept which still eluded him completely.

Humanity’s one redeeming feature was also the hardest for him to wrap his head around. The idea of caring for one another for reasons other than survival was almost as alien to him as his new body. Helen loved Jacob despite the fact that, genetically speaking, he was of no relation to her. Families operated quite differently amongst his people: ensuring the survival of new generations was, of course, necessary for the survival of the species, but any kind of familial bond was purely instinctual. He had no connection to the ones who had raised him; it simply wasn’t the way things were done. 

However, the more he analysed it, the more he thought that perhaps – just perhaps – he wasn’t completely immune to empathy himself. As hard as he’d tried to remain impartial during his mission here, one fact remained: when it came down to it, he hadn’t wanted Helen to die. There was no rational reason for his decision – she was, after all, technically no different from any other human. There were over six billion of them; what difference did one make, in the grand scheme of things?

Still, he was glad she was alive.

He reached for the lamp by the side of his bed, and fumbled with the light switch before deciding to turn it off in a manner which was more familiar to him – he blinked, and the light extinguished. Humans and their emotions were ALMOST as alien to him as this new body. The key word being ‘almost’.

**********

Helen, coincidentally, was also struggling to fall asleep. Directly after ‘The Event’, sleep had come to her surprisingly easily – surviving the apocalypse left one awfully tired; fear was exhausting. Now, however, the storm had passed, and in its wake were a multitude of questions. The one which was preoccupying her the most at the moment, however, was fairly simple: would their life ever be anything close to ‘normal’ again?

Well, with an alien living under their roof, it was never going to be ‘normal’, per se, but she couldn’t help wondering whether Klaatu would, given time, learn to assimilate better into their world. Part of her thought she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but what about Klaatu’s friend, the elderly man? He seemed to have adapted to life on Earth; he even had a family here, so perhaps there WAS a precedent for their situation.

She’d like to speak with the man, she thought. He’d probably have some interesting advice, assuming there wasn’t too much of a language barrier – from what she’d heard, the man only seemed to speak Mandarin. Helen spoke no Mandarin herself, although she’d picked up a couple of words and phrases from some of her international students. 

The thought occurred to her that she’d always been meaning to learn a language, and, given her recent near-death experience, she figured there was no better time than now to revisit her old resolutions. Life was fragile; there was no time to wait around.

She was scanning through an old paperback – a trashy crime thriller she’d been reading before the near-apocalypse, whose plot she had, unsurprisingly, completely forgotten. She looked at the words on the page without really taking them in. Her mind was elsewhere. She’d started and re-started from the beginning at least a dozen times. She read:

_The light streamed down onto the rain-soaked pavement -_

Was it really fair for an alien to be living here? She tried to put herself in his position: would she be able to accept being put into a foreign body, to live on a foreign world? Expressionless as Klaatu was, she felt sympathy for him regardless.

_The light streamed down onto the -_

Would he be happier with his own people? Surely, she thought, she couldn’t provide for him what they could. He’d been living out in the vacuum of space, for god’s sake – a house in the suburbs must have seemed like a monumental downgrade.

_The light streamed down -_

Was all of this fair on Jacob? Was it strange for him to have another man in the house so soon after his father’s death? Helen knew it was strange for her: Andrew had been caring and attentive and, well, human. Klaatu was, obviously, none of these things, but he still fascinated her – more than any human she’d ever met. Although, admittedly, he left her exasperated almost as much.

_The light -_

Light. Whilst everyone else had drawn back, she’d walked towards the light – rippling and swirling and green-blue – and ignored their warnings. Something had told her that she wasn’t in any danger. Had the military not intervened, she thought, this entire mess might have been averted. She couldn’t exactly blame Klaatu for being suspicious of the human race; it wasn’t as though they’d made the best first impression.

She could still see that light when she closed her eyes. It had burned itself into her subconscious, and she doubted it would ever leave. First contact with aliens wasn’t exactly something one could forget.

Helen sighed and closed her book, resigned to the fact that there was no way she’d be able to focus on it tonight. Maybe, she thought, if she just turned off the light and lay in the dark for a while, she’d fool her mind into feeling tired enough to sleep.

She hauled herself out of bed and walked across the room to flick the main light switch. Her bedside lamp STILL refused to work. Helen’s last thought before sleep finally took her was that you didn’t have to deal with this kind of thing when you lived with a human man.

**********

When Helen woke up again, it was still dark outside, the air around her was cold, and her mouth was incredibly dry. She reached for the switch on her bedside lamp – she groaned as she remembered it was broken, and made her way (very carefully) across the darkened room to the light switch. She shivered in her thin pyjamas, and threw on her dressing gown: it was winter, but it still seemed even colder than was usual this time of year. Could they blame the aliens for this? Changes in the atmosphere, perhaps? She didn’t know – the ‘scientist’ part of her brain was still asleep.

Carefully opening to door so as not to awaken anyone else, she made her way quietly downstairs and into the kitchen in search of a glass of water. According to the clock in the hall, it was 6:00am, but it felt much earlier. In her half-awake state, she didn’t realise the TV was on until she was already on her way back to her room. She wandered into the living room to switch it off, and managed to walk right past Klaatu, not noticing him on the couch until he spoke.

“Good morning, Helen.”

She jumped, nearly spilling her water. He’d surprised her like this a few times since his arrival, and she still wasn’t used to it. He didn’t mean to do it, she assumed; he was just unnervingly still and incredibly quiet.

“Klaatu” she said, trying to hide her shock, “Morning…It’s early; couldn’t you sleep?”

“I have slept sufficiently” he replied, his eyes fixed on the screen, which was currently showing one of those late-night/early-morning infomercials. It was nothing interesting, but for him, Helen thought, it might have been. He certainly seemed quite absorbed in it.

Realising that the time window for falling asleep again had now firmly closed, Helen joined him on the couch, seating herself at the opposite end. His closed-off body language gave off the aura of one who appreciated their personal space – Helen wasn’t sure if this was truly the case or not, but decided to play it safe.

“How are you?” she asked. She wanted to break the silence somehow, even if he was unlikely to answer such an open-ended question.

“Can I ask you something?” he replied with another question, and Helen was a little taken aback, and apprehensive about what this ‘something’ might be.

“Sure,” she said, “Go ahead.”

He held his hands out in front of him, staring at them with what looked like a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

“How do you humans deal with these?” 

Helen was relieved; she’d thought it would be a far more serious enquiry. She didn’t want to offend him, but she also couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“Hands?” she said, “What do you mean ‘deal with them’?”

“They are strange,” he replied, “Difficult to operate, especially when fatigue is an issue. Is this true for all humans?”

Yet again, it occurred to Helen just how little Klaatu knew of the practical side of human life. You could learn the technicalities from monitoring satellite transmissions, she supposed, but apparently no amount of harvested data could prepare you for the real thing.

“Well…” she said, wondering how best to explain this to him, “I suppose we’re born with them – most of us have had years and years to learn these things. It’s muscle memory, you know? And, I mean, you’ve only been human for a couple of weeks. I suppose it’s bound to feel strange.”

He stared blankly, which Helen had learnt was normally his reaction to almost everything.

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured him, “I mean, if it helps, I don’t think I’d be all that good at telekinesis either.”

“I see,” he said, turning his focus back to his hands, “The human body is needlessly complex,” he stated, bending his fingers one at a time, “You have too many parts. Legs, arms, hands, sub-hands –“

“Sub-hands?” Helen asked, perplexed, “What are sub- … fingers.” she realised, the smile creeping back onto her face, “Those are called fingers, Klaatu. How…How did they not teach you that?” she asked, stifling laughter. Jacob was still asleep upstairs, and she didn’t want to wake him.

“There was somewhat of a language barrier” he confessed, “They didn’t assume my stay here would last more than a couple of days. I suppose my superiors didn’t consider it essential to mention the details.”

It was things like this which made it increasingly hard for Helen to find Klaatu intimidating. Yes, he was tall and stern-looking and sometimes eerily spaced-out, but it was difficult to regard him as some kind of malevolent extraterrestrial threat when he didn’t even know the proper English word for ‘fingers’. She was glad she’d taken him in: it was obvious he desperately needed someone to teach him how to live.

“Sub-hands,” she said, spreading out her own fingers and examining them, “I like that. Sub-hands. Linguistically, it makes sense. You’ll…” she paused, “You’ll get used to them. They’re useful. You can pick things up with them…”

Another awkward silence began, as another infomercial started. What was this one? Some kind of oven glove? No, wait, it was some sort of cleaning product. Riveting stuff.

“Is this all that’s on?” Helen asked, as much to herself as to Klaatu.

“I am unsure” he replied. Then, after another long pause, “Can I ask you another question?”

“Fire away” she said, scanning through the channels. 

He said nothing.

“Yes,” she clarified, “You can ask” 

She took a long sip of her drink.

“Are you able to explain the concept of love?”

She’d really picked the wrong moment to take that drink, hadn’t she? She managed to avoid doing a full spit-take, but still ended up swallowing awkwardly and having to clear her throat. 

Where had THAT come from? She didn’t know what surprised her more: the subject matter, or that he brought it up in the same tone one might use when asking about the weather. This was going to be little more difficult than explaining how hands worked.

“Well…” she said, “It’s complicated, even for humans. We can feel it our entire lives without really understanding it. It’s kind of difficult to explain; I guess, for most of us, it’s not something we really think about.”

“Like muscle memory?” he asked.

“I…” she chose her words carefully, “I suppose so, in a way. The more emotions you feel, the more you get used to feeling them. And, again, it’s something we start learning from birth: generally speaking, we’re not solitary creatures, and almost all of us need interaction with other human beings in one form or another.”

“So, love relates to interactions with others?” 

“I suppose,” she said, “In the most basic terms, yes. But it’s…” she took another sip of her water, to give her some time to think, “It’s very nuanced. There’s the kind of love between friends, and between partners, and between family members, and they’re all different parts of the same emotion”

She wasn’t sure if any of this was getting through to Klaatu; it was very difficult to tell. She knew, logically, that he probably had no concept of embarrassment, but she certainly felt uncomfortable, and was eager to end this conversation.

“I see” he said, though he didn’t appear to be any less confused. “Is companionship a necessity for humans?”

“In a way, I guess it is,” Helen replied, “It’s not like food, or water, or sleep, exactly; our bodies can technically survive without it. But we’re far more comfortable mentally when we have contact with others. We’re not meant to live in total isolation; it’s not healthy for us. Love’s even beneficial to us physically: it can reduce our stress levels…but, I suppose, it can also increase them, sometimes. It’s…” all she could do was repeat herself, “It’s complicated. I’m sorry I can’t explain it to you better. I guess it’s just something you learn.”

She tried to look him in the eyes when she spoke, but doing so always made her feel small – not necessarily in a bad way, but more in the sense that she was staring into the void and the void was staring back. As human as he appeared, there was a definite sense of something… else peering out at the world from behind those eyes; a constant reminder that the man sitting next to her was, for all intents and purposes, a person-shaped shell, housing something she may not even be able to comprehend. She recalled his description of his previous from – a vast, amorphous creature floating through space – and although it wasn’t exactly easy to picture him like that, it was still easier than seeing him as purely human.

“Thank you, Helen” he replied, unblinking and monotone, “Much of human life appears to be ‘complicated’; the mental processes of your kind are evidently no different.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, casting a glance at the TV listings. Not the news, she decided – that was the last thing she needed to see right now. “I guess love’s a lot like learning how to use your hands.”

Internally, she chastised herself for her choice of words: it had sounded a lot less suggestive in her head. She reassured herself with the fact that he probably wouldn’t pick up on this, being unable to interpret language in any other sense than 100% literal. 

At least, she certainly hoped so. “Hitting on mysterious extraterrestrial beings” wasn’t one of the main principles of astrobiology (unless she REALLY hadn’t been paying attention in college). 

As the sun began to rise, and Helen found a terrible daytime movie that was dull enough to play in the background, she realised that, as strange as things were, they could have been a lot worse. Maybe ‘normal’ was overrated.

Immediately after having this thought, she had to explain to Klaatu that, no, not everything shown on the TV depicted the lives of real people – in fact, most of it didn’t. What was the purpose of this? Well, it was for entertainment, mostly. And what was the purpose of ‘entertainment’? Humans just enjoyed it; it made life more interesting. He stated that many aspects of human society seemed to exist for no practical reason, and she agreed. You needed some impractical things, she explained, to make life worth living.

Further viewing of the film revealed that he also didn’t know what a giraffe was.

Helen wasn’t surprised. At least animals were far easier to discuss than emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are hands? (Baby don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. No more)
> 
> Up next: "Mr. Wu didn't sign up for this"


	5. Alien Gossip and Blondie's 'Atomic'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mr. Wu attempts to explain things.

“She told me that love is a lot like learning how to use your hands” Klaatu explained.

He didn’t know why Wu found this anecdote so amusing. Laughter was a strange behaviour, which seemed more like a respiratory defect to him than an expression of joy, but apparently this wasn’t the case.

It was nearing mid-day, and the two of them were once again sitting in the corner of that bland yet functional café, ‘The Bean’. In an attempt to blend in, Klaatu had ordered a coffee, but wasn’t sure he liked the effect the beverage was having on his body. He’d only consumed half of it, and though he certainly felt more alert, his heart rate had also increased dramatically. 

Wu had explained to him that this was simply the effect of caffeine, a substance for which he was bound to have little tolerance considering he’d never had it in his system before. 

“I suppose she has a point,” said Wu, “It takes some time to get used to both. I assume this is what she meant”

His smile widened, the creases across his face deepening.

“Unless you’ve been learning a lot more than I’d anticipated”

Klaatu tried to frown in disapproval, and took a sip of his coffee. Facial expressions were…challenging for him, still – so many different muscles to control, and so many subtleties to understand. If he had it his way, he’d let his face remain motionless at all times, but if he was to appear human he knew he would have to at least make an attempt to express himself. 

Disapproval. Eyebrows…down? That was right, wasn’t it?

“If you must know,” he said, “I have learnt many things since my arrival. Just this morning, I found out what a giraffe was.”

“From her?” Wu asked.

“Yes, from her.”

“I see” said Wu, “In the grand scheme of things, love is probably a more important topic. You won’t encounter any giraffes living here – not outside of a zoo, at least.”

“Zoo?”

“A place for housing animals. I recommend you visit one at some point; I imagine you’d find it quite interesting.”

Klaatu, of course, was far too determined to cling to his façade of apathy towards life on Earth to admit that, actually, that did sound quite interesting.

“Have you heard from our superiors?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes,” Wu replied, “Haven’t you? You did remember to submit your report to them, didn’t you, Klaatu?”

“Of course,” he said, “I did so immediately.”

Wu said nothing, and simply stared at him.

“I submitted it yesterday evening,” Klaatu confessed, “I’ve been busy. And it was hardly a straightforward situation to explain.”

“I see,” said Wu, “You know it usually takes them a few days to reply.”

Throughout all advanced civilisations, there existed certain constants; bureaucracy was, unfortunately, one of them.

“I can say many things about you, Klaatu,” said Wu, “But I’ve never known you to procrastinate. Living amongst humans can prove to be somewhat of a distraction, can’t it?”

He was right, of course – as Klaatu recalled, it had been much easier to focus before he had taken human form. There was so much more to think about, so many processes to control, and all the light and the sound and the sensations of this new world were unavoidably shocking for one who had spent so long living out in the void. 

“The longer I spend here,” he said, “The more I wonder how you have been able to integrate so successfully.”

“It hasn’t always been easy,” Wu explained, “I have my family to thank for much of that. My wife always used to tell me…”

Klaatu tuned out what he was certain was going to be a very long anecdote from his associate, and looked over to where Helen and Jacob were sitting. What, he asked himself, did he consider them? He had hardly been on Earth for long enough to call them ‘family’, and yet he sensed that what he shared with these humans was something more than friendship. 

He’d planned to remain detached, and to observe humanity from a purely objective viewpoint, but he had an increasing feeling that this wasn’t going particularly well. The thought had occurred to him earlier this morning that, even if his superiors weren’t expecting him to stay on Earth, he may not have wanted to leave.

Not right away, at least. Initially, he’d been intimidated by how much there was for him to learn, but this was gradually morphing into a persistent curiosity, the likes of which he had never before experienced. He had to give Helen credit: she was demonstrating incredible patience where he was concerned – something which was rare amongst members of his own species.

“Klaatu?” Wu’s voice pulled him out of his contemplation, and he realised he had been so deep in thought that he’d barely heard anything the older man had said.

“Yes,” he replied, hoping to conceal how little he’d been paying attention, “Interesting. I’ll consider it.”

Wu, however, was irritatingly perceptive – that, it seemed, was one trait he hadn’t lost after all these years. 

“I know you weren’t listening,” he said, seeming inexplicably pleased by this, “You were too busy looking at her.”

Klaatu attempted to replicate his look of disapproval from earlier in their conversation, but wasn’t sure if he’d quite managed to get it right – since he was unable to see his own face, it was difficult to tell.

“I was thinking” he said, brusquely.

“About her?”

“About many things” he replied, and paused for a moment before adding “Helen included.”

“Understandable,” said Wu, “This can be a cruel world; it’s hard not to fall in love with those who treat you well. They are few and far between. I assume this is what’s preoccupying you?”

A couple of days ago, Klaatu would have dismissed this inquiry – as, indeed, he HAD done during his previous meeting with Wu – but it was difficult to deny, without outright lying, that emotions were a factor in his current predicament. 

The fact that humans didn’t even seem able to understand them themselves only complicated the matter further.

“I’m not sure ‘love’ is the word I would use” he said – because, truthfully, he wasn’t – “I suspect I am beginning to feel empathy towards her, and her son by extension, and so far I can’t say I’m enjoying it.”

“It’s difficult,” said Wu, “To go from not needing to feel anything, to suddenly experiencing everything at once. It can be overwhelming at times.”

“I’ve noticed. I’m not even certain if they can explain it; Helen was unable to, when I asked her. If she cannot articulate what she feels, what chance do I stand?”

Wu looked thoughtful for a moment before replying.

“You needn’t give it a name just yet,” he said, “Just try to analyse how you feel, not what. That should make things easier for you.”

The idea of discussing his psychological state with Wu was not one which filled Klaatu with much enthusiasm, but since Helen hadn’t been able to provide him with a concrete answer on the topic, he reasoned Wu might well be his last recourse. Perhaps, if he really wanted information, he would have to put aside his pride for the time being, loath as he was to do so.

“I enjoy her companionship,” he said, “And, though she is only one human out of a vast population, I can’t help but feel that her death would have a negative impact on me.”

So, Wu had asked him to be honest, and was now laughing at him again – was this how it was going to be?

“You’re a born romantic” said Wu. 

Klaatu didn’t know what that meant. He also wasn’t sure whether or not he was being insulted. 

“Physically, the appearance of the human body is strange,” he continued, “Disturbingly symmetrical. Alien. And yet, for whatever reason, I find her significantly… less disturbing than other members of her species.”

This, apparently, was amusing as well.

“I think what you’re attempting to say,” said Wu, “Is that you find this human attractive. Or am I assuming too much?”

Attraction wasn’t generally experienced by their people – at least, not in the sense that humans appeared to feel it. It wasn’t as though it was necessary to facilitate the passing of DNA anymore; there existed far more efficient means of achieving that, many of which didn’t require even the briefest moment of contact between entities. Biologically, there was no longer any need for it.

And it was, of course, an after-effect of biology. Klaatu wondered if being physically human was exacerbating his confusion – he certainly hoped not. Would he have still felt the same way about Helen if the two of them weren’t so physically similar? Would she be afraid of him, and he indifferent to her?

“I find her interesting,” he concluded – that was a suitably neutral term – “So much of what she knows is foreign to me. I enjoy my conversations with her, and being around her, and I believe my curiosity regarding humans may be the reason for this.”

“Hmm…” said Wu, “I would remind you that, up until very recently, you were convinced the humans should be wiped off the face of the Earth, but I suppose my not believing that you too can change might be hypocritical of me.”

“Additionally,” Klaatu continued, ignoring Wu’s comment, “I am still used to being able to absorb energy as a form of sustenance. Humans emit a considerable amount of heat, and I believe my residual instinct to seek out all forms of energy may be the cause of what you would call ‘attraction’.”

It was a hypothesis he’d developed soon after meeting Helen, and it seemed feasible. Once he’d acclimatised to life on Earth, this need to seek out energy would surely begin to fade away.

“So,” said Wu, “You believe that you enjoy this woman’s presence because you want to absorb the heat energy she produces?”

“I believe this is a valid theory” said Klaatu.

“Klaatu,” Wu leaned forwards a little in his seat, “Whilst I can’t speak for your own experiences, believe me: that is NOT why.”

__________

Although Blondie’s ‘Atomic’ was vastly preferable to ‘What’s New Pussycat’, both became rather grating when played on repeat on a (still) malfunctioning jukebox. As she sipped her coffee, Helen wondered if it had been broken even before the aliens had arrived, and judging by the overall quality of the establishment, she wouldn’t have been surprised if this was indeed the case.

The coffee was no better than it had been the last time they’d come here, but she drank it down anyway; she’d been awake since the early morning, and needed the energy. Under normal circumstances, she never would have chosen watching a TV movie over getting enough sleep, but it hadn’t been normal circumstances.  
Well, she thought, absolutely nothing in the last couple of weeks had constituted ‘normal circumstances’, but even within these parameters, this morning had been unusual. Klaatu had been far more talkative than she’d become used to, and had asked her so many questions that, really, she’d only been watching the TV in the loosest possible sense. 

Granted, it was very difficult to judge whether the alien was happy or not – or, indeed, if he even experienced happiness – but he certainly went through periods of quietness and willingness to talk, which were possibly his closest equivalent to a ‘mood’. 

She was no longer afraid of him – she wasn’t sure if this was wise, but it was the truth. No, she was fascinated; she always had been, but until now her interest had been accompanied by a constant undercurrent of dread. But, as the realisation dawned that he apparently had almost as much to learn from her as she did from him, this unease had dissipated and, though she had no way of telling for sure, she suspected he may have started to feel the same way.

Jacob was eyeing the conversing aliens suspiciously, peering over his shoulder whilst trying to appear as though he were still minding his own business. There was, of course, no point in trying to eavesdrop on a conversation in a language he didn’t understand, but he seemed to be trying anyway.

“What d’you think they’re talking about?” he asked, in a hushed tone – although their conversation was unlikely to be overheard due to a combination of distance and Debbie Harry’s voice blaring from the jukebox for the seventh time.

“I don’t know,” said Helen, “I suppose it must be something important.”

“Maybe they’re just gossiping,” he suggested, “D’you think aliens do that?”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” she said, “They’ve probably got a lot to discuss. Whatever it is, his friend seems to think it’s funny.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” said Jacob, “Weird. I don’t think Klaatu’s much of a comedian”

“I mean,” said Helen, “It’s just as likely they’re discussing business of some kind. I’m not even sure his friend there IS an alien. He doesn’t act like one.”

“Or maybe it’s Klaatu who doesn’t act like other aliens.”

Helen couldn’t argue with that – it wasn’t as though you could judge all members of a species by just the one individual. It wasn’t like all humans behaved as she did, so nor, by that reasoning, should all of Klaatu’s people be similar to him.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering what he’d said to make the other man laugh.

__________

“Klaatu, I cannot stress this enough,” said Wu, “All of what you’ve described is completely normal, and I suggest you try not to worry about it anymore.”

That, thought Klaatu, was easy for him to say. Of course Mr. ‘I-Married-a-Human’ Wu would say that. Nothing about life on Earth fazed Mr. ‘I-Love-Humans-So-Much-and-Think-They’re-Really-Not-So-Bad’ Wu. ‘Try not to worry’. He WAS trying not to worry. 

“But most of this behaviour,” he pointed out, “Has no practical function. Like that thing they do with their faces, for example.”

“Humans do a lot of things with their faces,” said Wu, “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

It was difficult enough, Klaatu thought, to articulate oneself in one language, let alone multiple ones, especially when describing concepts to which there was no equivalent in his original tongue. What had that word been that he’d learnt only this morning? Fingers: that was it.

“With their faces,” he repeated, “Their mouths – the hitting together of their…” he struggled to think of the word, “Flesh-teeth?”

Judging by Wu’s response, that was NOT the correct term. His acquaintance muttered something relating to a deity and covered his face with his hands, and Klaatu waited for him to compose himself.

“Lips,” he said, “You mean ‘lips’. Yes, they do that. Why are you asking this?”

“I have seen it,” Klaatu explained, “In one of those fictional accounts of theirs.”

“Television,” said Wu, “I see. Well, that’s just how they demonstrate affection – something which, as we have established, you know very little about. I wouldn’t let it concern you,” he glanced over at the humans across the room, “Where you are now, I don’t think it’s going to be relevant for quite some time.”

“And if it becomes relevant?” Klaatu asked.

He realised there was probably a certain degree of cultural context which he hadn’t yet grasped, because Wu had been rather perplexed by most of the questions he’d asked in the last few minutes of their conversation.

“Then you consider yourself lucky,” Wu replied, “You must understand: most humans look forward to these things.”

“Yes,” said Klaatu, “I’m sure most humans do.”

Nothing much more needed to be said – Klaatu had run out of questions to ask, and he sensed that Wu was beginning to tire of explaining concepts which probably came naturally to him after so many years on Earth. So, he said farewell to his associate and, still feeling electrified from the effects of the caffeine, made his way towards the exit.

“I am returning home” he informed Helen.

“Our home?” she asked, “Or your home?”

“Ours” he clarified.

“You go on ahead,” she said, “We’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes. We’ll catch up with you”

He had hoped that speaking with Wu again might lessen his confusion, but though he felt more informed as he left the café, he was more confused than ever.

The caffeine hadn’t helped, either.

__________

Helen waited until Klaatu was out of sight (and, presumably, earshot) before going over to speak with his friend, who was still sitting in the corner. She wasn’t sure if the man spoke English or not, but it was worth a shot. If he WAS another alien, he might be a useful ally. 

“Hi there,” she said, offering her hand, “Helen Benson” she added, pointing to herself.

“Wu” he replied, taking her hand and shaking it, just as a human would.

“Do you speak English?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I speak many languages, Miss Benson,” he answered, “I have lived many lives, in many different places.”

“Are…” she said, “Are you like him? Klaatu, I mean.”

She sat down at the table; this might, she thought, be a long conversation.

“Well,” said Wu, “I think to say that I am ‘like him’ may be a slight exaggeration. He and I are of the same species.”

Ah, so she HAD been right about that part, then – the two of them were both aliens, but didn’t share many other similarities beyond that.

“Have you been here a long time?” she asked.

“In this café?” he said, with a smile, “About forty minutes. On Earth? Decades. I was chosen as an observer many years ago, but my reasons for remaining here were more than just professional.”

Family, thought Helen – back when she’d seen him for the first time, he’d been accompanied by a younger man, perhaps a son or a grandson. Could ‘they’ start families with humans? Assuming that he, like Klaatu, had human DNA, she supposed that would make sense.

“You have a family here” she said.

“You noticed” he said, “I married my wife only a year after my arrival here. She was the first human I met – I still remember it: I was stumbling around, disorientated, in the field outside her house, and she must have assumed I was drunk or insane, but she offered me help anyway. I’m still not sure why she did it, but I’ve always been thankful. I fear my life on Earth may have been far bleaker without her.”

Helen had suspected the man would have an interesting story to tell, but hadn’t expected it to be such a moving one. She was reminded of how she had been another alien being’s first contact with the human race, and how differently THAT had gone down. 

“We came to America,” he continued, “To her, it was a long journey, but for me? Not so much. I found work as an electrician, which came naturally to me. Fortunately, no-one caught on to the fact that I was often able to fix things without using any tools. We bought a house; we had a son, and then a daughter together, and if I hadn’t already known I had to stay, I definitely knew then. You can’t live as a human for long before it starts to affect you.”

“I suppose not,” said Helen, “Do they know what you were? Where you came from?”

“My wife does,” said Wu, “I couldn’t hide it from her; it didn’t seem fair. The children don’t know. I’ve always thought I would tell them when the right time came, but I suppose there’s no right time to discover one’s father is from another planet. Perhaps they’re better off not knowing – they have their own lives now, anyway. My son has his own wife, and they have children of their own, and my daughter is deeply involved in her studies to better the quality of life for all humans.”

Even by human standards, thought Helen, Wu was a very amicable person. However, the fact that an alien – from a species so different from humans that it was able to survive in the vacuum of space – was able to develop such compassion was nothing less than extraordinary.

Perhaps, she thought, there was some hope for Klaatu after all.

“That’s incredible,” she said, “And you’re sure you and Klaatu are the same species?”

Wu chuckled – again, just as a human would.

“He’s never been particularly demonstrative,” he said, “I’ve known that man for centuries, and I’ve never known him to care about anything. Needless to say, we haven’t always seen eye to eye.”

“Even with multiple eyes?” Helen asked.

“Ah,” said Wu, “He told you about that, did he? No, not even then. Although, for what it’s worth, he seems rather fond of you.”

This surprised Helen more than anything else she’d learnt today – or, in fact, in the last couple of days. 

“You think so?” she asked.

“I know,” he said, “I’m as surprised as you are; it’s not like him at all. His view of humanity as a whole is hardly the most positive, but where you are concerned, I believe he’s become rather attached.”

So far, Helen hadn’t been so naïve as to assume that Klaatu felt anything towards her in particular – she’d accepted that he was probably sticking around with her and Jacob for the sake of convenience, and, honesty, believing that had made their situation easier, to whatever extent it COULD be made easier.

“He’s been asking me a lot of questions,” she said, “More than he did to begin with. There’s so much he doesn’t know.”

“Oh,” said Wu, “I know. Just now, he called lips ‘flesh-teeth’, can you believe that?”

“God,” she said, “Yes. Yes I can. Do you know what he thought fingers were called?”

“What?” Wu asked.

“Sub-hands” she said, “Honest to god, ‘sub-hands’”

“’Sub-hands’” Wu repeated, “Why does that not surprise me? You know, I had this exact conversation with him before he departed for Earth. ‘Klaatu’, I said, ‘Don’t you think you ought to be a little more thorough in your research?’ But, stubborn as always, he informed me that he wouldn’t need to know all the specifics, as his mission here would only last for a couple of days at most, and how much could possibly go wrong in a couple of days?”

Well. That explained a lot.

“You’re very patient,” said Wu, “He says so himself. I’m not certain if I could put up with him as you do.”

“He’s alright,” said Helen, “Honestly, the longer he’s here, the more I start to like having him around. He’s interesting.”

“He says the same about you,” Wu told her, “’Interesting’ was the exact word he used, in fact. You’re a scientist, aren’t you, Miss Benson?”

“Astrobiologist” she answered.

“Ah,” he said, “That explains it, then. No wonder he interests you. I’m glad I’ve had the chance to speak with you, because I’ve been wanting to thank you.”

“For what?” Helen asked.

“He won’t admit it,” said Wu, “But you’re the one who changed his mind about humans. And I’m glad you did. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and rose from her seat, “I’m not sure if that’s true, but…” she paused, “I don’t know. I’m trying to teach him we’re not all bad.”

“Well,” Wu said, “You seem to be doing a better job of it than I have so far. And I’ve been trying to convince him for years. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks,” said Helen, “Thank you – I’ll see you again, some time, let you know how we’re getting on.”

They said their goodbyes, and Helen left with Jacob, who was, understandably, full of questions, having only half-heard what she and Wu had said.

“Who is he?” he asked, “He’s one of them, isn’t he? What does he have to do with all of this?”

Helen, at this point, was used to frequent barrages of questions; in that department, her stepson had nothing on Klaatu.

“I’ll tell you on the way home” she said, and as the pair of them walked together, she had the distinct feeling that she’d just made a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I didn't expect this chapter to turn out quite so wholesome, but these things happen.  
> Next time on 'How to Be Human': Sparks fly in the most literal sense of the term.


	6. She's Beauty, She's Grace, She's in Love with Aliens and Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions: how do they work?

“No… no, that’s not quite it – try moving your face a little more… upward on the left-hand side. No, no, YOUR left. Okay, now a little less. Your eyebrows have gone back down, try to keep them more neutral, or people’ll think you’re going to murder them.”

Their alien guest had presented many challenges, but teaching him about the proper use of facial expressions was, in Helen’s opinion, one of the toughest. Still, she was determined not to give in; it wasn’t as though he could spend the entire remainder of his life on Earth with a totally blank face. Someone would surely notice something was amiss.

After half an hour of trying, he was still incapable of producing a smile which was not abjectly terrifying. He could just about get the mouth right, but the eyes remained as glassy and expressionless as ever.

“Can’t I simply tell you if I experience an emotion?” She noted his use of the word ‘if’, as opposed to ‘when’.

“You can with me,” she said, “But human communication’s more complex than that. It’s not just verbal; we rely an awful lot on body language too. You… you can stop smiling now.”

He did, immediately, seeming somewhat relieved.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I mean, there are a lot of muscles in the face. You’ll get there eventually.”

Would he, though? Now wasn’t the time for negativity, she decided: things were actually going pretty well, considering how close the human race had come to total annihilation. She’d finally returned to work. The first lecture she had given after returning had been an interesting one, to say the least – for the first minute, she could think of nothing more to say than: “Well… they _do_ exist.”

Though she was pleased to have something to do – a job, after all, seemed like some sort of a return to normalcy – it also presented a few difficulties. The main issue, she found, was that it was proving very difficult to talk ‘theoretically’ about extraterrestrial life when she had an actual, real alien living under her roof.

“ _I mean, the Event is clear proof that they DO exist, but we can’t assume to know anything about them_ ”. Bullshit. She _knew_ one. She’d acted as his goddamn chauffeur as the world had descended into chaos. He lived in her spare room and ate dinner at her kitchen table. He had an unfortunate habit of stealing things, was fascinated by her microwave, and had approximately the emotional intelligence of a sheet of paper.

“What do you do all day?” she asked him, “It must get pretty dull for you, being here on your own.”

“I go out,” he replied, as though it were obvious, “To orientate myself in my new environment.”

Well, at least he was trying.

“How do you get around?” she asked, “You don’t have money.”

“There are machines everywhere which dispense it for free, Helen,” he said, “Hardly difficult to acquire.”

Oh, goddamn it.

“ATMs?” said Helen, “Those… Those aren’t free, Klaatu, you can’t just take money from them.”

“Clearly,” he said, “I can.”

“What I mean,” she said, “Is that it’s not considered morally acceptable to…” she trailed off – he didn’t look as though he were taking any of this in. “Never mind,” she said, “Just don’t get caught.”

He smiled – or, at least, tried to. It came across as more of a grimace.

“Okay,” she said, “Not quite. You’re pulling your mouth down again, it’s supposed to go more…up.”

She’d said some variation of this phrase fourteen times in the last half hour, and it still didn’t seem to be getting through. Did he even have the correct facial muscles to do this properly? She assumed he must – perhaps they were atrophied from lack of use?

“Like this” she said, using one finger to carefully pull one side of his mouth into something resembling a smile.

Did she imagine the lamp across the room turning on by itself?

He stared at her, unblinking, and she wondered what was going through his head (it was always immensely difficult to tell). Was he embarrassed by this? Irritated that he, with all his knowledge of the universe, couldn’t master something which came naturally to humans? Perhaps he was grateful for her patience with him, as Wu had suggested. After all, he apparently found her ‘interesting’, whatever that meant.

On the other hand, maybe she was assuming too much – he might not even have the capacity to feel any of these emotions, so Helen thought it was probably wise not to be too presumptuous. After all, she was dealing with a bizarre cosmic entity here, not a human.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t realise how long her hand had lingered on said bizarre cosmic entity’s face until he decided to speak up.

“You emit heat energy at an alarming rate,” he said – immediately, she pulled her hand away. “Not a criticism,” he added, “Merely an observation. Though inefficient in the context of survival in a more hostile environment, the effect is admittedly rather pleasant.”

Helen wasn’t sure if she was being insulted or complimented.

“I guess you can’t afford to waste energy out in space,” she said, trying to keep the conversation strictly on scientific grounds, where she was most comfortable. “It’s different here, though. I promise, neither of us is in any danger of freezing to death.”

“I suppose not,” he said, “But nevertheless: inefficient.”

“Well, human life is full of inefficiencies,” she explained, “That’s part of what makes us human. We can’t all be omniscient beings.”

“I never claimed to be omniscient” he said.

“I should hope not,” she replied, “You didn’t even know what fingers were called.”

The look of indignation he gave her was more amusing than intimidating.

“It’s a joke,” she assured him, instinctively placing a hand on his shoulder, “You’re doing fine. Really.”

In actual fact, ‘fine’ was probably not the word she would have used to describe Klaatu’s efforts at assimilation so far. ‘Just Barely Passable’ would be more accurate. The casual observer may not have immediately registered him as an alien, but no one in their right minds would consider him an ordinary man. He stared for too long, his voice barely – if ever – changed in tone, and at the rate at which he was learning to display emotions, she might have been better off telling her friends that he suffered from a rare form of facial paralysis.

Sometimes, Helen felt as though she were raising two children at once.

With that being said, Jacob continued to handle their unique situation surprisingly well. ‘Heart-warming’ wasn’t a word she ever thought she’d associate with Klaatu, but seeing the two of them together – like an aloof house-cat and an over-excited puppy – never failed to put a smile on her face. It was obvious how it had happened: as much as Helen tried to parent enough for two, she knew her son was still looking for a father figure. The one he’d chosen to latch onto just so happened to not be human.

As for Klaatu, she assumed he was just interested to learn more about the world from a young human – as much as she loved him, her son did tend to lack a filter, and would probably give their visitor more honest opinions about the world than she was able to.

He’d also added some… choice expressions to the alien’s vocabulary. Just the other day, she’d had to explain to him that referring to a passing cat as a ‘son of a bitch’ wasn’t considered appropriate in polite society.

Still, there were the positive moments: just the other evening she’d spied the pair of them sitting on the couch together, playing videogames. Only her son had needed to use a controller. Given the ease at which she’d seen him manipulate technology, she could only assume that Klaatu was letting Jacob win – either that or, as the boy had put it, he ‘totally sucked at this’. Normally, she would have complained about him being up so late, but how many chances did the average kid get to socialise with an alien? It was probably doing Klaatu just as much good as her son, anyway.

She’d just hoped he wouldn’t accidentally destroy her TV. He had been getting better at not doing that. There were still occasional flickering lights, and bursts of static from the TV and radio, but at this point she had begun to accept these occurrences as a fact of life.

Good lord, she was actually getting used to this, wasn’t she?

____________________

Though he wasn’t sure he was ‘getting used’ to life as a human just yet, Klaatu’s outlook had also grown a fraction more optimistic.

Granted, the inhabitants of Earth were still a comparatively uncivilised people, with a propensity for violence and strange behaviour, but he considered himself fortunate to have found some who didn’t pose quite so much of a threat to his life. He wasn’t entirely pleased with his current assignment, but if he had to remain on Earth, he could think of no human with whom he would rather spend this time than Dr. Benson.

He’d tried to analyse his newfound feelings towards her, and had approached the problem from every conceivable angle before coming to a relatively simple conclusion: he _enjoyed_ Helen’s company. It didn’t make sense, but it was undeniably true. Yes, she was human, but she wasn’t like the rest of them. This human was different: intelligent, and more peaceful than most of her species had proven themselves to be. As a civilisation, they knew so little about the universe, but individuals like Helen were at the very least making an effort to understand more. He couldn’t fault her for that.

So, he enjoyed being with her – he understood this to be true. What he couldn’t understand, however, was the sense of nervousness which overtook him whenever she came near. Was it nervousness? It definitely wasn’t fear – he had experienced that before, and it was a different emotion entirely. He couldn’t think of a logical reason why he would be afraid of her. Quite on the contrary: as a being, she radiated a definite aura of safety.

Perhaps it was not nervousness she evoked in him, but excitement. He did find her interesting, after all; she always seemed to have some new piece of information for him to add to his memory. Furthermore, her effect on him was not only psychological, but physical: he’d noticed the correlation between her proximity to him and his increasing heart rate, and the dilation of his pupils, and his body’s release of certain neurotransmitters. Doubtless these side-effects were all part of human biology – and he, he reminded himself, was not human, and should therefore be able to ignore them. They were, however, quite distracting – increasingly so as he grew more and more accustomed to his new body.

He wished there were a way to turn these feelings off, but this didn’t appear to be possible. It was alarming, to say the least – was this why humans were generally so volatile? Were these physical side-effects what drove so many of them to pair with one another? That seemed to be a reasonable conclusion.

(Personally, he still preferred his theory that he was attracted to Helen’s radiation of heat energy, but judging by Wu’s response to this hypothesis he judged that this was most likely not the case.)

To complicate matters, it wasn’t as though he had any reference point with which to compare what he was experiencing. Wu had been little help, and Helen had found the concept of emotion difficult to put into words.

As Helen now spent much of her time at work, and Jacob his at school, Klaatu used this time as an opportunity to experience as much human culture as possible. Admittedly, his attempts thus far had mostly involved wandering around the neighbourhood with no real sense of purpose, but even this could sometimes prove interesting. Human-watching could be a rather entertaining pursuit; they often appeared to act with little foresight, making their actions difficult to predict. This tendency, he mused, was likely the cause of most of their troubles.

He also noticed the human couples, some more obvious in demonstrating their affection than others. Holding hands was apparently a common practice – why was it, he wondered, that humans felt such a need for physical contact? He guessed it was partly an act of reassurance; Helen embraced her son when she wanted to improve his emotional state. But, as she had explained to him, ‘love’ took many different forms. How was one ever supposed to understand it? Trust, however, was a concept he understood. He trusted Helen, and the feeling appeared to be mutual.

Today, for example, she would be late returning from work, and had tasked him with caring for Jacob until she came home.

“He’ll take the bus” she’d explained. “Maybe don’t try to pick him up yourself – I don’t think his friends would be used to you. Just make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

(Technically, defying the law to break an alien visitor out of confinement fell under the parameters of something she would do, but he had felt it was best not to bring that up.)

As he sat next to the boy now, using his mind to manipulate the primitive simulated reality displayed on the television screen, he wondered if Jacob could offer some insight into his latest predicament. Though the young human may have been naïve, he was at least honest. Furthermore, he had known Helen for longer than Klaatu, so he judged that his observations on her may prove useful.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, as his avatar on the screen died yet again.

“Go ahead” said Jacob.

“What do you know about Helen?” he asked.

Jacob appeared to be surprised by his inquiry.

“Why do you ask?” he said, raising an eyebrow, “Why would you…oh my god,” his expression changed from one of confusion to a smile, “You like her, don’t you? You do, right? You totally do.”

“I enjoy my interactions with her” Klaatu replied,“I thought it might be beneficial to attempt to understand her better.”

“You’ve got a crush,” said Jacob – not an expression Klaatu was familiar with – “and you want to know what she likes, right?”

“I assume so” said Klaatu.

“Oh, man,” the boy laughed, “Well, she likes… science stuff – but you already know that, right?”

Klaatu nodded.

“And she worries,” Jacob continued, “Like, a LOT, seriously.”

“About what?”

“About work, and about me, I guess,” he shrugged, “Says it’s because she cares. Me? I think she needs to chill.”

So Helen’s anxiety wasn’t only due to more recent events, but was a facet of her personality? Still, Klaatu supposed his arrival here hadn’t done much to alleviate her stress.

“I’ve noticed” he said, “I’m sure I’m not helping.”

“Nah, dude,” said Jacob, “I think she likes you. She’s all about aliens, and, well, you _are_ one! Have you _seen_ the way she looks at you? She likes you for sure.”

A far cry from the boy’s original opinion of him, thought Klaatu. Humans and their wavering emotions, once again. It stood to reason that Jacob, having overcome his initial fear of him, was now beginning to see him as a parental surrogate – most certainly NOT a role which he was confident he could fill.

“Just be yourself,” Jacob advised, “She’ll be into that, I know it.”

Of course, even in the act of assuming human form Klaatu was fundamentally not ‘being himself’, but he saw no need to argue the point. If he weren’t physically human, it wasn’t as though any of this would be an issue anyway.

____________________

So far, Helen had done an excellent job at denying her involvement in the Event, and she fully intended to keep it that way. It was best, really, to pretend she’d never been involved at all; the whole thing would require too many lies to remain convincing, and it would be much easier to tell one big lie that to maintain many smaller ones.

She wondered what the other scientists from the first-response team were doing now. She hoped they were all well; a few of them had been at their last meeting with the Secretary of Defense to discuss the terms of Klaatu’s stay. Part of her wanted to get in contact with them again, but she was sure a lot of awkward questions would arise.

After all, none of _them_ had volunteered to live with an alien.

At present, three things were on Helen’s mind:

(a) She was here right now, working late and marking papers, when she’d been partly responsible for saving the world? Really?

(b) Peter O’Brien’s grammar was atrocious, and she wasn’t sure how he’d ended up on her course to begin with.

(c) Was she developing feelings for a man who wasn’t human? (This was an incredibly pressing concern.)

It was embarrassing, really. Embarrassing, because she knew he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings, so she may as well stop that train of thought right now, before it started to cause trouble. Because she was a professional, and her relationship with him should be the same. She’d survived the heartbreak of Andrew’s sudden death and, logically speaking, she shouldn’t be trying to move on so soon.

_Focus on the work, Helen_ , she told herself.

_God. Learn the difference between ‘their’ and ‘there’, Peter_. Why the hell were you even studying astrobiology if you couldn’t get that right?

_Klaatu’s not totally emotionless_ , she thought, _he just doesn’t understand what he feels. In time, maybe he could learn – Wu did, after all._

_But_ , the rational part of her brain told her, _Wu was different from the beginning, he said so himself_.

_Maybe so_ , said the opposing side, _but people can still change_.

_You’ve been through a terrifying experience, Helen, and now you’re looking for comfort. It’s classic trauma bonding, and it’s not healthy_.

_But he’d still be just as fascinating even if the world hadn’t almost come to an end_.

_You might think he’s pretty-looking now, Helen. But whenever you find yourself thinking that, just remember how he looked when you first saw him: all bald and slimy and emaciated._

_True, but he’s come on a long way since then. And besides, if I’ve seen him like that and I’m still having these feelings regardless, it stands to reason that they’re genuine rather than just superficial_.

Helen hadn’t had a self-argument of this intensity for a long time, if ever. It wasn’t as though she’d ever faced a dilemma like this before. All she could do, she supposed, was try to keep things as conflict-free as possible while she figured things out.

Fuck it. O’Brien was getting 45%. She wasn’t feeling in the mood to be lenient.

As she drove home, Helen tried her best to put her mind at ease. The pattering of the rain on the car’s roof was calming, although the static-infused music from the radio was so distracting that she had to turn it off. It hadn’t been quite the same since… well.

Things were okay. Things were going to be just fine.

_Things would be fine_ , she thought, as she pulled into the driveway.

_Things would be fine_ , she thought, as she walked through the front door.

_Things would be fine_ , as she set down her bag.

Then, she saw Klaatu standing in the hallway with a perturbed-looking pigeon in his hands, and she thought she might have just about lost her goddamn mind.

“Good evening” he said.

The pigeon cooed.

“I…” _What_ was he doing? What in God’s name was he doing? “Hi” she managed to say, “We…umm… had an unexpected visitor, did we?”

“The creature collided with a window and injured itself,” Klaatu explained, totally unfazed by the bird’s attempts to break free, “I have revived it, and was about to release it back into its natural habitat. It seems quite healthy now.”

Ah, yes. He _could_ do that, couldn’t he? In retrospect, perhaps it hadn’t been so hard for her to change his mind; he didn’t even want to let a pigeon die. Either that, or the intended exterminator of the human race was turning soft.

“That’s nice” she said, resignedly.

He wasn’t as apathetic as he pretended to be, was he? Perhaps there truly was hope for him after all.

The pigeon probably agreed with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klaatu: alien, unwitting stepfather, savior of unfortunate pigeons.


End file.
